Roland had a good sense of propriety.
Every time she felt that their relationship had stopped at the right place, he would suddenly break the balance. His offense and conflict would make her angry, but not too angry.
Sometimes, Samara even felt that she didn't know whether she was angering Roland or herself.
Every time she wanted to let go of those messy emotions, he would suddenly appear, strong and tolerant, making her feel pitiful and helpless.
Samara looked at him and didn't say anything. He didn't say anything either. He just glanced at his hand that had been clamped by the door.
Samara subconsciously followed his gaze and saw the bruises on the back of his fair hand. She couldn't help frowning.
She had gone in quickly and closed the door tightly, so his hand must have been pinched hard.
"Do you like the gift I gave you yesterday?"
While she was lost in thought, Roland spoke.